


Friends With Benefits (Keanu Reeves x Reader Series) Chapter 10

by ficsnroses



Series: Friends With Benefits (Keanu Reeves x Reader Series) [10]
Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Consensual Sex, Crying, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsnroses/pseuds/ficsnroses
Summary: What happens when two, lonely friends start seeing each other for sex? A tricky friends with benefits love story, when feelings get in the way.
Relationships: Keanu Reeves/Reader, Keanu Reeves/You
Series: Friends With Benefits (Keanu Reeves x Reader Series) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677169
Kudos: 4





	Friends With Benefits (Keanu Reeves x Reader Series) Chapter 10

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter X ~ Don’t Look Back in Anger.
> 
> Warnings : nsfw, smut. hella angst. 
> 
> Notes : Welcome back! This is a special chapter, as much of it is in flash back. Flash backs are indicated in >italics<, present scenes are indicated in >normal text<. Side note, flash backs are not in chronological order. I really hope I’ve written this in a way that doesn’t confuse anyone. As always, please leave comments and feedback if you get a moment, they mean more than you can imagine. Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter 9 Recap : Y/N adjusts to life without Keanu after she ends their physical relationship, stuck missing him dearly and remembering how they used to be. When a friend from her past; Matt, meets her, she invites him over for an evening in to catch up, resulting in sleeping with him to get over Keanu. Back at Keanu’s house, he finds himself laying awake thinking of her, ultimately deciding to go to her in the morning to confess his feelings. However, upon arrival, Keanu finds Matt leaving Y/N’s house, realizing she’d been with him the night prior. They stand in awkward silence together, unsure of how to tackle the conversation.

**x**

You can’t stand in a fire and not be consumed. You should have feared,

when you looked into that same fire and smiled. More so, when that fire burned the best, most treasured memories inside you.

And some of the best memories, moments; are the ones you can’t tell anyone about. No one but him; the man who made them within you; set that _burn_ inside you.

The man with the same fire, burning, igniting. Crumbling.

- _Do you ever wonder how you wound up, where you did? Where you went wrong?_

He stands at your doorstep, defeated.

“Can I come in?” A fragmented Keanu asks, voice low, thick cut with rasp. His eyes had just seen what his heart couldn’t bear fathom.

Betrayal. He felt betrayal. You were never his, he’d never had you, despite the proximity. Yet, he feels the cut so deep.

Sodden with dejection, you state dryly. “Yeah, sure.” Moving aside, your gaze probes _anywhere_ but connected to his. He looks tired, blue, disheartened. Through a petulant twitch of his lips, you swore he’d been about to say something; yet falters.

Thick, dead silence.

Silence all around,

When it was the last thing you remember used to be, when you and him were still okay.

##  _~𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲;_

_He touched you gently,_

_Held you tenderly,_

_Kissed you passionately,_

_Undressed you slowly._

_You couldn’t forget him; couldn’t forget the things you did._

_That night long ago, you’d asked him to come see you. The tedious night threatened your sanity, and you didn’t want to be alone. LA rains drummed each surface that evening, the drive to your apartment would have taken him an extensive hour through the violent downpour. Howling wind sputtered through the sky, dusk fallen horizon taking him your way to where you’d wait for him, needing him so critically, so closely._

_He’d came, dressed in black with rainfall speckled skin. Bourgeoning pulses of thunder boomed above, the hallow ache of fear inside your bones eased when he’d arrived, staying close. You hadn’t felt much that day; weary limbs dragged through the tiresome day hoping so greatly to feel some sort of liberation, anything to ease the brew inside._

_He held your hand for the first time that night, in a way that felt as if so much more. He held it, all the way to the haven of your bed when he’d asked you what you need. What you need, what you want, what was okay. No one had ever portrayed that level of complete, unconditional regard before; never so unselfishly assured you were safe. Safe, entirely._

_In the darkness of your room that night, you realized you felt safest in his arms. You’d learned it that night._

_You’d gently, slowly peeled off each other’s clothes; his skin had been damp under the fabric of his black t-shirt. To his mane, delicate whisps of wet hair curled at the ends, some clinging to his skin in a beautiful frame. You’d brushed them away for him that night; let him kiss your lips so slow that night._

_He’d touched a part of you then. A time so distant, so long ago it felt foreign. But that evening, that night set the course of what brought your end._

_That was markedly the night, when you’d known you’d fallen. Even if so little, so slight, his touch captured your soul that night._

_Underneath him, you felt so much, for the first time in a while. Hadn’t been held that close before, hadn’t been touched that affectionately before. Palm stationed to your back, he held your body in his arms; flush to his chest as if a porcelain doll; body snug to yours as he moved inside you, in and out so leisurely, so slowly it **burned**. His member pumped you so delicately, so full, so proximate that his hot breath stippled to the crook of your neck, tingles and shivers igniting each inch of your skin from his intimacy._

_You remember his moans, his soft whimpers as your bodies moved together, the way he twitched inside, the way you throbbed around him, the way he fit as if made only and solely for you. The way he took you as if you were the missing piece. Sharp breaths sucked in, wet and warm kisses marked into each other’s skin, each curve, each crevice of each other’s bodies memorized in those two hours spent together, moans and pleads swallowed up in passionate wails._

_You felt every vein, every inch of him. The feel of his base hitting your core relentlessly, the feel of his hips snapping into your own so passionately to the rhythms of breathy sighs and shallow gasps. Fingers tightening near his shoulders, you’d swore you’d marked fingerprints into his skin forever, reminding him always of how dearly you’d held on that night; how much you **needed** him that night and how much he’d been there. Each second savoured, he pumped passionately into your slick arousal, splitting erection tight inside your wet and warm sanctuary. The pain, the soreness, the girth, the stretch, it’d all been replaced with searing pleasure. Nothing but undeniable, irreplaceable burn. That was the day._

_It had become clear that night;_

_How much he’d become that evening; how important he meant._

_Your release washed over, Keanu’s hips going stiff and rigid as he slows pace, grunting quietly as he came deep, deep inside. That was the longest sex you’d ever had, with anyone. Because it wasn’t sex._

_It wasn’t just sex that night._

_It was the feeling, the assure being there. Of hoping so desperately to wipe away all things bad, all endeavours that threatened peace of mind. The feeling of prolonging nothing but pure, unconditional intimacy._

_Even after release, he’d stayed positioned inside, cock sheathed inside to your end, so warm, so full. So fucking close._

_It had almost slip that night. You’d almost told him you loved him through the act._

_Burn isn’t anything without even the smallest trace of love. Even the smallest spec._

_How could you forget him,_

_and the things you did?_

Keanu quietly slips in when you gesture, his gaze fallen and downcast as he watched Matt leave. Not a word has been exchanged, not a syllable spoken in the cloud of cold silence.

Cold, stoic silence. Unsure of the words that could even be spoken. Unknown to the quarrel of feelings, thoughts, emotions bubbling inside both your minds. The balance had never been there for you and Keanu.

You still hadn’t found the balance.

“ _Did you sleep with him_.” Keanu blurts, so sudden, so soon.

Taken, your expression twists with ponder, struck. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

“Did you sleep with him.” He reiterates, with a sudden sternness. Something so,

 ** _un_** familiar.

##  _~𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞;_

_Surrounded by sheets, the morning you’d woken up to was nothing like the ones you remembered. Light burns underneath your eyelids, release of tone through a muffled groan out your thin lined lips. A half formed groan bubbles at the back of your throat, morning air greeting you with wavelengths of drained doze. Between a sea of silky sheets and cotton pillows, the weight of the dipped bed beside your frame held a weight far too familiar,_

_The weight of a friend. Someone who should have never seen you in the ways he did the night prior. Someone you should have never felt the way you did in the early AM._

_You’d both needed someone that night, needed to feel something that night._

_Yet, the quarrel inside never subsides. Was it sufficient?_

_Was it reason enough?_

_Was it even, enough._

_Your eyes crack open slowly, blinking away at the ceiling; bleary eyed and disoriented. Underneath the sheets, your figure lays bare, naked and exposed with the satin glow of your skin on full display. The morning is early, and he seems to still be under a deep snooze. With his forearm to his head in efforts to block out light, a messy tousle falls to his chocolate locks, shirtless chest covered partially by the heavy duvet. On the floor around, a symphony of your long forgotten clothes pepper the hardwood, the ache between your legs reassuring; last night **was** real._

_Last night happened._

_You and Keanu happened._

_Your eyes ponder, you lie awake. Staring at the crème ceiling, the dots and specks a thousand too many. When he’d wake, the end would be near. There was no coming back from this. No erasing this from memory. History would remain; the course had been set._

_You hadn’t noticed his eyes flutter, breath pulled with a heavy stagger as his pupils adjust, collecting where he’d been, eyes barely fluttering the objects and corridors of the room before he remembers,_

_the things he’d done the night before with you, the things that would engrain to his memory for a lifetime. He turns, gazes met with voiceless realization, an awkward exchange of greeting with the covers modestly bestowed higher._

_What once was open, friendly, close; was now awkward._

_“Y/N,” He sighs, cautiously making sure to not touch you. He wouldn’t intrude, wouldn’t pose himself on you, despite waking up together after a very physical evening. Suddenly, you’re further aware of your nude chest, dangerously exposed under the thin barrier of the duvet. You release an unsteady breath, staring at him in mute shock. “I’m really sorry, I apologize.” His deep baritone rings. You’re both still nude by a drape of the duvet to cover your modesty. “I’m sorry, I should have controlled myself.” He acknowledges as you shift, quick to hush his lament of worrisome thoughts._

_“No, no. It was…” You sigh, gaze to the clothes below. “It was both of us.” Reflecting back, you remember how right it felt in the moment, how complete it felt to have his lips on yours, hefty palms glazing your each curve, each dip. “It was a heavy night. I’m sorry we let it…happened.”_

_Silence._

_Heavy,_

_Awkward,_

_Dreary, silence._

_Clearing your throat, your eyes gloss the covers to his chest, eyeing. “Do you…have anything on…?”_

_“No.” He quietly returns, heave a sigh when he realizes not only was his manhood undressed under the blanket, his clothed laid miles across the stiff floor. Your expression drops and you swallow all too thickly, chuckling in attempts to ease the mood._

_“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, shielding his eyes away from your half nude figure beside him. “I can look away if you want to get dressed.” And with a shift away and guard to his gaze, you cautiously, lowly drape a sweatshirt and pair of pajama shorts to your skin, quietly announcing as you leave the room. “I’ll just be outside.” You unobtrusively voice, shut of the door behind you._

_And to the dew of the morning sun filtering the skyline windows, you sigh lowly, heels of your palm rubbed to your temples in a shuddering exhale._

_What had you done._

_What had,_

_You done._

_Moments later, he finds you waiting to bid him goodbye, merely a few exchanges of words drabbled as he finds his belongings. His expression ceases with a subtle, unspoken ponder; a pain that would all too soon become far too familiar, as he watches the way you silently stand in quarrelling guilt._

_Quietly, his mind remembers how a mere 12 hours ago, things were still normal. You and him were still normal, still good friends._

_Leather coat daubed to his broad shoulders, he frowns in good riddance, and the smile on your lips stays brittle, never quite reaching to the rest of your features. At the doorway you stand, wishing him goodbye as you try your best not to think back._

_Not to remember that something as silly as faulty, negative, soul searching sex had ruined you. Just about to walk away, Keanu stands still, sincerely reminding. “Hey, Y/N.” His voice is thick, reprimanded with guilt and something so respectfully him, so familiarly enticing. “Take care of yourself. If you need a talk, I’m there.” Nodding his head, he attempts a sincere gesture. “You’re a good friend. You have been and still are.”_

_A gentle exhale greets you, expression crumbling when he leaves and you close the door dreading. Dreading that you let it get that way._

_Dreading that you ever let sex become a part of it._

“ _That’s_ _none_ of your business.” You return, piercing ache to your temple all to familiarly settling in, yet again. There’s a firmness to your stance, and you wonder if today would end in the ruins of your relationship, for good.

If this would be the absolute last time you’d see him.

Keanu stills, jaw clenched before he continues. “No, Y/N. It is _. It is_ my business.” Confident, his voice reverts to that certain astonishment, that firm accusation. “I’m tired of you acting like it’s not.” He sighs heavily, voice lowering, calmed to his usual softness. His chest almost heaves slightly, a boil of anticipation, a singe of words so desperately needing to be spoken.

Feelings long overdue; emotion long hidden.

Silence.

“Y/N, _you_ came to me. _You_ wanted this. _You_ wanted us to be what we were _._ What we _are_.”

There’s a sadness to his tone, a reminder of what had once been conceived.

What turn out to be.

##  _~𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞;_

_The porch step. Dark, secluded, the gateway to what would soon become._

_His house was much larger than yours; big opaque door with pillars and dim tile leading the way. In the gloom of the night, it seemed rather dull, haunting almost. Or perhaps that, haunting remembrance is what you memoire from that unforgettable evening._

_Rain pouring, heart thudding. Cold, stoical shivers tapping your bones. Your shaky grip had barely knocked the door, when he’d come to your call. Flustered, surprised, yet pleased. Pleased that you were there, even after what had happened between you two only nights prior._

_You remember, standing there in front of him. Watching the way his compassionate eyes looked into yours; he kept a feasible distance, unsure of if you would want him near after what had happened._

_Its funny, how we work. Only days ago, he’d been so close, **so** fucking close. Days ago, you were in his arms the entire night. And now, today, as you stood at his dreary front door, the distance lengths miles long between._

_“Y/N,” He greets, hand raked through his raven strands. “I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything okay?” Wondering, his tone is kind-hearted, familiar. Your own lips twist; feelings bubbling of wanting the closeness again. Keanu’s eyes track your expression intently, his own words interrupting the coil inside your mind. “Come inside, please.” He gestures, sincerely leading the way. “It’s cold out.”_

_It hadn’t taken long, only a mere couple of moments before he’d understood what you wanted. What you’d come for. Despite the recoiling memories of leaving through awkward goodbyes only mornings ago, he couldn’t have denied it either._

_That night it happened for the first time, was satisfying; gratifying. The most comfort, ease he’d felt in a while. Being with you was bliss; it may have been wrong, but it was bliss. You were the best he’d remembered in a long, long time. Intoxicatingly indulgent._

_Within moments, his lips were on yours again that evening, strong arms carrying your body to the halls of his bedroom walls. It was happening again; the need, the desperation to feel had caught the best of you both, yet again._

_You felt pathetically fragile in his arms, and the heat of his palms sinks into your chilled skin pleasurably. He’d filled you so well, so whole, subsided the emptiness for a while. The grounds for what would become had been established; wrapped in his arms with his erection brushing hard strokes to your bare thigh underneath his body. Your legs wrapped around his waist while your arms pulled him further down; closer. Bare skin moved together, pressed flushed against each other’s bodies all evening, yet again,_

_and deep down inside, you’d known it way back then as well. He’d already been more than just a friend. He was always more than just a friend. You’d lied to yourself through clenched teeth and a firm jaw all evening while he made love to you, all evening while your bodies moved together, complimenting; fulfilling that dire hole inside you both lacked._

_“ **This is okay. This is alright. You know him. You’ve already done this with him once before. You don’t have to hide from him**.”_

_You’d lied to yourself the entire time, lied because it felt too good; so good to stop. And with muffled moans and subtle claws raked across the bare broad of his back, you sighed into his touch while he worked you, filling the void._

_And for the first time in a long time,_

_the loneliness hadn’t felt alone._

_-_

_“Just sex.” You remember saying, sprawled on your back on his white bedsheets into the midnight eve. Keanu laid beside you, his own gaze taut on the ceiling above, chest heaving breathy sighs from the feverish pace he’d exhumed seconds prior, channeling nirvana into you._

_“Right.” Keanu notes. “Just sex.” You lay beside him, completely nude, exposed, yet comfortable. “And,” He nods your way, gaze barely flickered to the space between your bodies. “There’s nothing wrong with that. As long as it works for us, that’s all that matters.”_

_That should have been it. That second time you had sex should have been it._

_Everyone relapses, everyone has weakness._

_Everyone has vice._

_But you did it again, and again, and again._

_You feel deeper for him, again and again, and **again.**_

“You wanted it too, Keanu.” You bite your lip, through an uptight declare. “You said as long as it works, it works.” Keanu breathes deep, almost laboured to block out the words searing his ears. He never thought you’d ever have this conversation.

 _Anything_ but this conversation. “Those were _your_ words.” Flatly, you reiterate.

His eyes drink in your figure, your features, expressions; your unreadable stance. He wonders if you knew how much agony sears through his veins right now. The way he peers at you, the look makes you feel strangely vulnerable. Strangely defenceless- only adding to your need to appear _stronger_ than he is.

 _Stronger_ than the ghost of a woman who let it get this way.

“Y/N,” he barely voices, a sound that dies in his throat as soon as it emits the air. His features prove tolerant, as if abiding to what he didn’t want to spill. The thoughts, months of built up suppression. Lips twitching, he seems as if he’s going to say something, but doesn’t.

You move slight, limbs barely dragging the apartment door shut with a thud. Against the doorframe, your back ignites with cold shivers when touched to the surface, leaning against the frame with your hands held behind your back. You watch him, observe him standing, surely a thousand words reeling his own thoughts. “ _Why did you come here?_ ” Your question pierces the thick tension, eyes barely wrinkling when you see him peer down to the wooden floor.

“To talk.” He simply replies, hands reducing into his blue jean pockets.

Your head dips and you nod faintly, dragging your hands up and down the soft fabric on your thighs until you feel the tremor inside subside, slightly.

“Fine. Let’s talk.” An echo of the conversation that should have strung a long time ago,

Only you both knew. You knew well, that coming your way, would be nothing remotely resembling the exchange you’d wanted. Would ricochet nothing close to the words you needed to hear.

You’d both hurt today.

You’d both hurt, perhaps more than you had,

-ever;


End file.
